Honour of the Knights
by Danny Barefoot
Summary: AU. Asseylum woke up early. Slaine is on her side, but the pro-war knights have turned against her. Rafia/Zebrin.
1. Moon

_A/N: I don't own Aldnoah Zero. The Point of departure for this story is that Asseylum wakes up before Slaine marries Lemrina, and convinces him to let her declare peace. However, the four most pro-war Orbital Knights haven't been killed off by Inaho yet..._

* * *

The row of Styglis pilots looked straight forward, towards Count Slaine Saazbaum-Troyard, as third-class workers and mechanics rushed about the Moonbase. Harklight was beside him, as always, and so was Count Mazuurek, having just concluded his audience with Princess Asseylum. Slaine clenched one fist, and spoke levelly.

"In response to her Highness's proclamation ending the war with earth, it seems that Counts Barohcruz, Sebring and Orga, at least, are _en route_ to occupy this base. Their ostensible aim is to ensure the freedom and safety of Princess Asseylum. Most likely, they mean to force her Highness into restarting the war. I have already refused their request of surrender. Peace with Earth is her Highness's true will; I intend to maintain it with my life. However, the Sygilis fighters are not equipped to face Versian Kataphracts. Your honour is already beyond question; any of you who wish to depart may do so."

"If I may speak, Milord?" The Stylgis' female commander spoke with a frown, "How would you feel about leaving us to guard her Highness, and fleeing yourself?"

"Soldier!" Harklight rapped out, "Don't you dare abuse Count Troyard's leniency again!"

"I'm sorry, Sir. But if we lose here, the future we've all fought for together would be lost as well! For the people of Vers, this squad will stand and fight. If we die...they'll never say again that only Nobles of Vers have courage."

The other pilots nodded. Slaine bowed his head, and shook hands with every one of them. Harklight and Mazuurek watched the unprecedented scene in amazement.

"Harklight, you'll act as base commander." Count and servant only had to lock eyes for a moment, "Count Mazuurek. Will you protect Princess Asseylum with your life?"

"Count Troyard, I put my life in your power simply by coming here! For the _true_ Princess of Sacred Vers–" An ironic grin, "–I would even trust my back to you."

Slaine thought of his fight beside Kaizuka Inaho–the flight sent plunging into the sea. It took all his willpower to make a reply.

"I don't care if you're my ally or enemy. This trap is mine, and the Princess is our only hope. Take the Herschel and fight for her victory."

"Well…good hunting. And good luck, Count Troyard."

Both Counts turned and moved away, soaring towards their Kataphracts.

-0-

-0-

Leaving the asteroid belt, like snakes gliding from a shadowed forest, two Landing Castles moved closer to the Moon's remains. Two further castles stayed back, ready, among the circling rocks and shadows. The blue beetle-like Octantis and the squat Electris passed from their respective airlocks into the sea of stars.

Count Sebring, as the senior Noble, sent another surrender demand. The only answer was the appearance of a red and a white Kataphract, both holding their position before the base. Both attackers throttled back, and faced up to their opponents.

"Two wings of Stygilis fighters lurking about as well, I see." Count Sebring checked his sensors.

"Fools," Count Barohcruz sneered, "How can they be ready to die, for a dissembling Terran knave?"

"Troyard does have the Princess. But we will make her Highness see the truth. Versian honour and safety demands the total conquest of Earth."

"Well spoken! I can scarcely wait to face the Tharsis, and avenge Marylcian–" Barohcruz recalled the single blow that had sent his friend into the void, and fought down a pang of fear, "– we could even defeat them before Orga and Rafia arrive!"

"Oh, the Countess has joined us already," Sebring smiled proudly, "Let us continue to stand our ground against Troyard and Mazuurek, and fully occupy their attention."

-0-

-0-

Countess Raffia carefully brought down her invisible centaur Kataphract, on the moon's surface. As a two platoons of spacesuited troops filed from the compartment on the Scandia's back, she grinned savagely.

"Well done, girl." She patted the Scandia's instrument panel. Popped the hatch, and floated for the airlock where her men were working.

Minutes later, the assault squad poured into the Moonbase hanger, sub-machine guns ready. As instructed by Mazuurek, the guards and engineers instantly threw up their hands. Rafia strode into the hanger last, having discarded her spacesuit and donned her red jacket at the first opportunity.

"Lock down the hanger and all entryways! Shoot any traitors that show fight!"

-0-

-0-

"Count Sebring! What of our honour?"

"Never fear–we will all be honoured as the saviours of Vers. Rafia's Scandia could never oppose the Tharsis's clairvoyance, but only she could take the Moonbase without loss of a Versian life. Nothing could better convince the 37 clans, and the Princess herself, of our sincere loyalty."

Sebring smiled again. If Rafia got the most honour from his plan, that was a bonus. She'd never been the type for simple or obvious gifts.

-0-

-0-

Rafia's troops already had the command deck held at gunpoint. The Countess went straight there, flanked by her section leaders, and aimed her sidearm between Harklight's unblinking eyes.

"Surrender the base, and take me to Princess Asseylum."

"I can offer my own surrender," Harklight stated imperturbably, "But Count Troyard has not empowered me to surrender the moonbase."

"Then tell me where Princess Asseylum is, or I'll blow your head off."

"I am unaware of Her Highness's current location. Perhaps I could get you some tea while we find out…?"

Rafia smiled grimly, before stepping back, and driving a side-kick into Harklight's stomach that reduced him to a groaning heap.

"I'll waste no more time with that common clown. You there! Have you accessed the base computer?"

"It was locked down before we reached it, Milady. Breaking the security codes could take–"

"Blast!"

"It was this one that did it." Raffia's soldier hoisted up a moonbase officer with blood dripping from his scalp, "Should we shoot him?"

"No; Count Sebring insisted we take the base without killing. Can't shoot a man for obeying orders anyway." Rafia turned to her section leaders, and barked out her directions, "Sections three and four will take charge of those peasants in the hanger. Baroness Astarte, I'm leaving you in command there."

"Yes, Milady!" The Baroness was an attractive fourteen year old, with golden braids. Survival on Mars made no allowance for useless mouths, however young; she was a skilled pilot competing with two other noble girls to be adopted as Rafia's heir.

"Section two, search the West block, and then report back. Section one will search the North block for Her Highness, with me."

-0-

-0-

"It seems we're cut off. Countess Rafia infiltrated the Moonbase," As he spoke, Mazuurek examined unfamiliar knobs on the Herschel's control panel, while keeping half an eye on the two enemy Kats before them, "Best thing that could've happened really."

"Explain." Slaine's voice gave the strawberry-blonde a sudden chill.

"Well, we could hardly face four Versian Kataphracts head on. Fortunately, the dissenters don't want to seem like they're turning weapons on her Highness. Rafia won't kill needlessly, or harm Princess Asseylum–they were good friends back on Mars, I believe. And while she search the base, the UFE is on its way to support us–they hardly want the war restarted, and with Kaizuka Inaho, we'll have a chance….Troyard? Are you listening?"

"It's okay. I anticipated the possibility of infiltrators."

"Troyard! What–?"

-0-

-0-

"–What? Wiped out?" Rafia's eyes flashed up from her radio, bright as a vixen's, "Stay alert, everyone."

The section passed through another sub-block bare of Princesses, before the corridors to their south and east were cut off by blast doors. Two more blast doors opened up–Rafia instantly shot two moonbase guards between the eyes, before slamming against the wall, as bullets filled the corridor. Her troops took out one or two ambushers, but quickly went down.

"Right, that's it. Tell the troops in the hanger their leader is dead, and someone finish those traitors off."

Several moonbase guards went to comply. One of them stared at Rafia's face-down body, before levelling his weapon.

-0-

-0-

 _"Get up. Are you my blood? Get up!"_

 _Clan Saazbaum were crack pistol shots. Clan Marylcian were swordmasters. Clan Cruhteo specialised in stick-fighting. And Clan Rafia were unarmed combat instructors to the Royal family._

 _The girl raised her head, shaking like she'd been pulled from the sea. Rose on one elbow, before her father's body slammed her down in another hold. His mustaches scratched at her eyes._

 _"Do you want to lead this Clan, bear the light of Aldnoah? Do you even have enough will to desire it? Live as a woman, if you have a woman's heart, and stop wasting your liege's time!"_

 _For nearly sixteen years, the girl had wanted it. She wept into the dust with the sheer rage of wanting it, as her father strode away. Eldest child of an Orbital Knight! Born for nothing but the power of Aldnoah! Born for nothing. Nothing._

 _"…don't cry, sis. If you work hard, you can get there."_

 _The future Countess Rafia looked up at a beautiful blonde ten year old. Her future sovereign was offering her a damp towel._

-0-

-0-

With a crack, Rafia's foot hit the guard's knee. He fell, as the Countess spun to her feet. Thrust a blazing gun aside, dropped two guards with chops and a palm-strike–saw another guard aim at her, shot him. Behind! She smashed a nose with her elbow, then judo-hurled the body into the second ambush party. Raced after, firing her weapon, and kicked the last terrified survivor to the floor.

"A warrior's life! A Noble heart! A truebred Versian soul! This is a knight of Vers!" Rafia seized one of the semi-conscious guards by the neck. "Tell me where Princess Asseylum is. Or I will order Astarte to begin shooting the traitors in the hanger."

The man told her, after which Rafia shot him dead. Then she reloading her pistol, and forged on into the moonbase, flicking blood-flecks off her jacket as she went.

"I'm coming, Princess." She murmured, "This time, I'll save you."

Asseylum had been calling her knights to conquer the earth for two years. No lying Terran would force her to give up that will, while Rafia had blood in her body to spend.


	2. Zebrin

**Castle Zebrin, Maputa, several days earlier**

A small garden table and chairs had been prepared for Countess Rafia on the viewing deck. African sunlight flooded through missile-proof glass, but neither she nor Zebrin dreamt of unbuttoning their jackets. They both drank Ceylon tea, and felt as close to peace as warrior aristocrats could be.

"Mmm." Rafia parted her pillow lips, "This is excellent, Count Zebrin. As was your defeat of those vile Terran assassins last week. I was rather glad you weren't hurt."

"Thank you, Countess, though there was little danger of that! I'm impressed at the peaceable condition of your territory, myself." And by her stunning smile, Zebrin thought–but it could hardly be proper to say so, "What do you suppose her Highness means to announce this afternoon? Count Troyard hinted it would be significant."

"Tell you what–I could almost say that they ought to get married." Zebrin nearly choked, then laughed. "What's that?"

"Amazon Rafia, finally conceding the merits of wedded bliss?"

"Not for me! It's another matter for Royalty. Count Troyard has shown Versian daring and resolve, in spite of his birth. He's just the man to avenge her Highness's wounds on those Terran dogs–but I wouldn't marry a noble ten times his worth. I'm no child, needing a man to control my life and birthright! My Scandia's strength, a just battle and true comrades are all the happiness this woman needs."

"I can't dispute that. But marriage generally is more than control, I insist. Companionship, respect, protection–"

"Why, I never knew you needed protecting."

"Touché!"

As Zebrin laughed with Rafia, his heart ached like a wrung towel. She never looked stronger or more beautiful than when she told him they could never have more than this. He was truly a hopeless man.

"Did you know?" Zebrin went on, "The mass of Terran women spend their lives in nothing but housework and childrearing. Domestic chattels." Rafia hissed in disgust. "While the women of Vers form a pinnacle of her glory and progress."

Male and female, all Martians worked, and no nobles at anything so low as childcare. Zebrin and Rafia had been raised from birth by commoner servants. Like most nobles, they didn't think of commoners as representing Mars.

"I know that the wives of nobility serve Vers as scientists, administrators; anything but soldiers," Rafia responded, "But they gain no honour for it, no true respect. We can only find them on the battlefield. The Orbital Knights don't even respect you as they ought, Count Zebrin, simply for being smarter than nine-tenths of them!"

Zebrin knew what she meant. Versian children learnt fighting, useable skills, and little else but the history and culture of their homeland. His father had nearly disowned him like Rafia's, for spending more time in physics and chemistry textbooks than on sparring, or endless troop reviews. He had only held his place by personally designing the Electris, before raising Zebrin from a mid to a high-ranked Clan though insightful politics. Nobles sought his advice in secret, while rubbishing him for an unmanly egghead to their friends.

"I have power, and some respect. I'm content enough."

"Are you?" Rafia sipped her tea, looking somewhat displeased, "Anyway, could you tell me just how you defeated those assassins?"

Killing a Count took out his Castle and Kataphract. Hence the UFE had been sending out assassin teams since just after Novosibirisk, and hence the Knights' rigorous combat training.

"….I walked out of my bathroom, to find my tailor and barber beheaded."

"Monstrous!"

"Quite. I was forced to knock off the gunman's aim by throwing a glass tub of mousse at his forehead. Then I disarmed him and put a nail file through his jugular–if the second man had been holding a gun, I might not have made it. I was hard pressed to avoid his machete as it was, but disposed of him using a hairdryer, a little judo, and a filled bathtub."

"Excellent!" Rafia slapped her thigh, "Another way to use electricity!"

Zebrin murmured that it had been nothing, and the conversation suddenly flagged. Rafia was smiling at him again. Zebrin had another wild urge to tell her about the Terran art films he'd been pleasantly surprised by. But it was Terran culture–even if he didn't lose her respect, she'd never watch them with him.

"Tomorrow evening…I'm conducting a putative raid against Hazyview, South Africa. Would you care to join me?"

Rafia's face fell, "Zebrin…it is my dearest desire to fight beside you once more. But that town is conquered territory…it would be nothing but a massacre."

"They harboured those assassins. It will deter the Terran dogs from further outrages. And I believe, within my territory, I may do as I see fit?"

"It's necessary, I know, but it's not war. Sorry." Rafia looked away.

Zebrin felt a boiling surge of anger. Putative raids, crop destruction and black propaganda hadn't reduced Terran resistance in his territory yet, but they logically ought to, and they would. And hadn't Rafia wiped out Addia Ababa with her Landing Castle? Hadn't she wanted him to be more strong and assertive, since they were children on Mars? Didn't that mean forcefully ruling his land by his own decisions? Sometimes he simply didn't understand her, bold and open as she was. It was perhaps her most frustrating and enthralling quality.

No. He wasn't some lovestruck schoolboy. In a year or so, he would marry a well-connected heiress. With the mineral wealth of Africa, he would be a knight of real power, with universal honour and respect. His mind would mould the Earth's future shape, for the glory of Sacred Vers, and nothing would hold him back.

"Milord? The broadcast….?"

"Blast, it's almost started! You should've reminded me earlier, fool!" Zebrin snapped at the hovering servant. He waved his hand, and the window became a TV screen. As the Vers anthem started, he and Rafia snapped to attention.

Before the speech had finished, they were on their feet again.

"I'll call Counts Orga and Barouhcruz."

"I'll call the Moonbase." Zebrin paced furiously, until Slaine appeared on the screen. "Count Troyard! What has caused her Highness to end the war with Earth?

"Count Zebrin. Didn't you watch her Highness's speech?"

"Don't mock us, Troyard! You swore on your father's memory to complete the conquest of Earth!"

"The command of my Princess trumps my father. Forgive me."

"Let us speak to her Highness!" Rafia broke in, "I will only accept this, if it is her true conviction!"

"You forget yourself, Countess. This is the will of the Emperor, transmitted through the Princess Royal. Obedience is your duty as a Knight, whatever your personal feelings may be. Until the situation has stabilised, Princess Asseylum will remain on the Moonbase and receive no one."

The screen blinked out. Zebrin clutched at the table in sudden shock.

Everyone knew he had supported Troyard. They'd think him a fool! His glorious future would be lost! Zebrin was only brought back when Rafia seized her chair and smashing it on the floor.

"He deceived us all! He has the Princess in his grasp. That smooth-faced honourless Terran dog!"

-0-

 **Moonbase, hours later**

"I know a double has been impersonating Princess Asseylum for the last two years. I know it was the real Princess who ended the war. I'd like to meet with her Highness, Count Troyard. For the sake of her peace, and her honour."

Slaine stared at the hologram of Mazuurek like a starving timber wolf. It had been a long day.

"What do you want?"

"For two years, no one but you and Count Saazbaum has had access to her Highness. The Orbital Knights are viewing her sudden change of heart with suspicion–particularly since you've sealed off the Moonbase. You need an external auditor, Count Troyard. If you tough this out alone, it won't do her Highness any good. My Kataphract was destroyed; I'm coming to you alone and unarmed. My only wish is to serve her Highness, and bring her peace to pass–" Nothing but hostility shone from Slaine's eyes. Desperate, Mazuurek threw out his arm, "–and if any act of mine does her harm, execute me with the worst torments you can devise!"

"…no torture. You'll be shot at once." As Slaine sent Mazuurek's shuttle permission to enter the Moonbase, the strawberry-blonde Count wiped the sweat from his brow.

"It's seems you were correct, Kaizuka Inaho. Now, what about you, Slaine Troyard?"

-0-

 **Castle Orga**

"…her Highness claimed this peace was the will of the Emperor. But his Majesty is…incapacitated. He cannot confirm her words." The tension between the four Counts thickened; none of them had known about their Sovereign's condition. "Count Barouhcruz. Do we have proof that Troyard assassinated Count Saazbaum?"

"Only suspicion–but I've said as much to all the other Counts, and hinted at our purpose. Even the staunchest royalists are furious, but none are yet willing to join us."

"Hasn't Mazuurek been admitted to the Moonbase?"

"Alone, and without a Kataphract. He claims the Princess is sincere. But until he leaves the base, anything he transmits could have been extorted at gunpoint."

"So we must kill Troyard and seize control of the Moonbase, before he leaves!" Count Orga struck his hand against the table, "The Princess must take back this absurd speech, and restart the war with Earth!"

"Of course!" Count Barouhcruz had looked rather ill, but suddenly recovered his suavity. Zebrin knew him only as a follower of first Saazbaum, then Troyard. A changeable opportunist and follower; he could tell Rafia despised him just as much.

"We must act! But against the Princess?" Rafia clenched her fists in frustration, "We'd be branded as traitors. All the 37 Clans would move against us."

"Might I suggest…?"

Zebrin related his strategy for a bloodless stealth attack. Orga nodded approvingly. Rafia gave him a look like an explosive arrow. His heart twisted under her eyes with a joy like fear.

"The Moonbase personnel should surrender at once. Then the Countess can discover if her highness was blackmailed by Troyard, threatened, or even seduc–" Barouhcruz caught Rafia's eye, "–ahem! Or anything else. But if she really does want–?"

"We will convince her Highness. This war can only end when Old Humanity itself is ended!" Orga rose to his feet, "For our children, and their children's children–for the future of Sacred Vers itself! For all the justice we have visited on their heads, the least remnant of Terran scum will bear us a deathless hate. They will never cease from striving and plotting to claw us down! They must be utterly crushed, or completely annihilated, for, my noble lords, I love my country! I will not let a seventeen year old's weakness cast her glory away!" Orga drew his dagger, held it up, "All of you must swear to persuade her Highness of the truth. If the Clans, or her Highness, find any fault with our actions….I shall prove the honour of our purpose by taking my life."

"Count Orga!" Rafia fell to one knee, "Please allow me to take my life instead! I have no family, none to weep for me–"

Zebrin's hand was gripping her shoulder, faster than thought. He looked her in the eye, shook his head.

"Rather, it should be I–" Barouhcruz knelt by Rafia, obviously not to be outdone.

"No. You're both too young," Orga stated gruffly, "And if my wife sheds a tear for me, she's not the woman I took her for. As the senior noble, I may take responsibility for your actions. So you may honourably persuade Princess Asseylum to restart the war. By whatever means necessary. Are we resolved?"

"To the death." Barohcruz stretched out his hand. Zebrin, Orga and Rafia put their hands together, and swore in the Emperor's name to fulfil what they had purposed. Then Rafia threw her arms around Orga.

"Countess...fight, conquer, and win yourself glory! Barouhcuz! May the hour be soon when we ride out as comrades!"

As Orga very nearly crushed Barouhcruz, Rafia turned to Zebrin. Threw herself at him, hugged him long and hard, whispered in his ear.

"Thank you, my comrade. To fight beside you, in worthy battle–there's nothing I desire more."

Yes. They had nothing so good as battle. Whether it was the Tanzanian invasion they had smashed together a year ago, or their youth on Mars, when Rafia would furiously defend him to young nobles who mocked his studious habits. It was only as they fought and together and overcame, that whatever lived between them grew simple.

-0-

 **Moonbase. Present**

Ninety minutes after Rafia's force had gone in, both Zebrin and Barouhcruz were in a fearful condition of nerves. Slaine was waiting in the Tharsis, tense and alert as a hawk. Having fully assessed the Herschel's controls, Mazuurek was reading a book.

"Zebrin! What if they receive reinforcements? If Countess Rafia was taken–"

"Let us wait before assuming that. Another thirty minutes."

Thirty minutes passed without event.

"It seems your Countess has somehow failed. May we now–?"

"Understood. We attack." The Electris' eye flashed green; Zebrin sounded as if his eyes were flashing red, "Barouhcruz, take the fore. I'll guard your rear. Count Orga, stand back to deal with any reinforcements, if you please."

"Understood. May the gods go with you!"

"The gods, and our Kataphracts." Zebrin murmured. He would take the Moonbase, save Rafia, and shoot down Asseylum's servants one by one, until she confessed that there was no peace.

A sphere of light blazed around the Electris, as quiet pressure jets pushed it forward. The Octantis hovered in front, both electromagnetic bobbins spinning on their monofilament lines.

-0-

Slaine studied the formation. The Electris' field was impenetrable. The spinning bobbins shielded most of the Octantis. The only gaps between bobbin and shield were a fraction of the Octantis' sides–exactly where Barouhcruz expected him to strike. Slaine barely dodged the swinging razorwire, swooping the Tharsis back out of range.

As the Herschel's laser drones clustered about the Octantis, it suddenly flew back, behind the Electris. A web of lightning surged out on every side, blowing several drones to bits. As Mazuurek whisked the others away, Zebrin moved his Kataphract back behind the Octantis with a smile, and both resumed their advance towards the Moonbase.

"We forced them back!" Slaine called out to his followers, "Stygis wing 1 attack the right side, Count Mazuurek on the left! Pin the Octantis down, so Zebrin can't blast out lightning on all sides, then I'll attack myself."

The Stygis wing roared forward, filling Barouhcruz's screen as slave units split off from the three master fighters. But range and power of his bobbins foiled a synchronised attack. The Octantis kept advancing through a barrage of exploding missiles. Slaine watched razorwire cleave through an asteroid and the Stygis lurking behind it.

While the Electris had perfect defence, the blue Kataphract had stronger attacking power. It would quickly destroy the Moonbase missile defences, letting the Landing Castles move forward and flood the Moonbase with troops. To hurt Princess Asseylum–

Slaine sent the Tharsis flying up from under the Octantis at its exposed feet. A sparking wire flew down to intercept him like a yo-yo. A bolt of lightning from the Electris. At the last second, Slaine threw the controls about, dodged away, and left wire and bolt to strike each other.

Charge cancelled, the wire went limp. The Octantis flew back behind the invulnerable Electris.

"Good show, Troyard." Mazuurek commented, "Have you another idea for actually destroying the Octantis?"

"No." Slaine glared at the recovered Kataphracts, relentlessly surging towards their goal.

"Perhaps I have."


	3. Comrades

It was Rafia who trained the Crown Princess in self-defense, since Asseylum was ten. It was a precious honour, to serve the one whose kind words had saved her birthright. Her father's grudged respect, the rank and honour more precious than life–it all flowed from that delicate blonde child. Whose smiles could give way to irresistible resolve.

"Please, stop letting me pin you, Rafia."

"Highness! If you were injured–"

"If I were hurt because you hadn't taught me, you would be blamed, Rafia. Fight as if I someone you hate."

Rafia's father had died in a piloting accident, a month after she had beat her elder brother half to death, and he had finally named her as heir. She'd hated. She'd wished she didn't have to. But a noble of Vers had to fight, and guard the birth struggle of New Humanity. Her life was nothing. Honour and loyalty were all.

When she bruised Asseylum's wrist, and when she broke her finger, the Princess put it about that she had fallen on the stairs. As much as she hated to harm her gentle princess, Rafia was grateful. The lies for her sake, the dependence of her life on Asseylum's kindness, was another little bond of friendship between them. The Versian round of soirees and tea parties choked fellowship in snide and empty words; it was very precious. Like her strange, unthinking bond with Zebrin, ever since he had helped with the homework her tutor had set, and she had torn strips off the young nobles who mocked his bookishness. But he was a Count, and a man; he had to take care of himself and so did she.

It was the Princess who she had to protect; that gold hair and white smile filled Rafia's dreams. She had fought her father, her brother, for the power that made her more than a slave. How could she waste her life, scrabbling with noble parasites for a dead planet's gleanings? What was power alone, without an innocent soul to protect? A Countess, she would serve her sovereign. A knight, she would serve her lady fair.

A month before her state visit to Terra, Asseylum visited the orbiting Castle Rafia. The Countess introduced Baroness Astarte and 'the girls', before showing the Princess round her spartan residence with obvious pride. Asseylum smiled graciously, as always. On the viewing deck, they both gazed down at the clouds and seas of earth. Rafia remembered the times after an hour of sparring when they had lain back and examined the stars, staining the red sand with their sweat...

"It's beautiful, isn't it, Rafia? Think what fellowship with Terra would mean for Mars."

"Ah, quite. Highness. Just wish I had the honour of accompanying you."

"Rafia...it's been nearly two years, hasn't it? I'm glad you're here, ready to protect me. For you, I go to Terra; and for all people of Vers, whose future I swore to hold forever in my heart."

Rafia could have kissed the Princess's feet. She was the heir of Aldnoah, star and hope of New Humanity; incarnation of the holy Versian empire whose people stood foremost in her heart. Without honour or nobility, the Terrans had no more future or humanity than beasts that perish; Earth's riches had to be wrested from them, by honourable threat of force, or justified war. And the Princess was going, risking her precious life, for that noblest of aims.

A month later, Rafia heard that Asseylum had been killed by the Terrans. She brought her hand down, and gave the order to flatten Abu Abbis.

-0-

-0-

Wrestling down the fear that threatened to break his composure, Count Mazuurek sent in the Herschel drones for a third attack. Again, the Electris glided out in a lightning halo–seven drones smashed–eight left. Zebrin had been forced back three times, but his reaction was quickening. Mazuurek hit retreat; the AI drones swooped back like birds.

"Mazuurek, they're too near–!"

"Wait, wait…! Troyard, they're close enough, shoot now! Now, you hear me?"

As ghost-futures flashed before him, Slaine didn't reply. The Octantis was charging towards the Moonbase, the Electris guarding its rear. In the instant when the future he needed flew up, Slaine fired–then shot away from the filament attack that would've cut him in half. His bullets bounced off the electric shield, hit the Octantis in the back.

The spent, tumbling rounds barely slowed it, but the shock jolted Barouhcruz like a full broadside. He hastily estimated the distance to the Moonbase; then charged forward, ahead of the slower Electris.

"Pardon me, Count Zebrin! I mean to finish this."

"No, you fool–!"

Barouhcruz didn't hear. The low domes and hangers of the base sprawled ahead; defence missiles flashed up, but he cut them down. His wires would shred the base defences like paper; if the defenders didn't surrender the Princess then, he would start shredding them. With Count Orga taking full responsibility through suicide, no one would question his methods. No one would question his honour, as Troyard's former supporter; he wouldn't have to fear the death of the honourless that Vers never failed to bring down the weak.

He would crush the moonbase, and avange his friend. He might never have failed to devote himself, above any person, to the strongest faction of the hour–but he had grown up with Marylcian. They really had been friends.

The red Herschel was floating above the Moonbase. That easy-going, corrupted traitor was in Marylcian's stolen steed–and with only seven drones left. He could take him, and he would.

"Mazuurek! I challenge you!"

As he flew at the Herschel, lasers flickered around him. He brushed them aside with his spinning wires, prepared a swing to cleave from head to crotch–

"Hah?"

Two Styglis came round the Moon, so low and close to the surface, he could barely react. Somehow he threw the Octantis forward, and their missile exploded behind him. With a perfectly aimed slice, Barouhcruz cut both fighters. The charred wrecks floated past, as he breathed out.

"Honourless scum!" He yelled at Mazuurek, "You would use commoners to ambush me? Well, your trick failed–"

Two more missiles hit the Octantis in the shoulder, knocking Barouhcruz's face into his instrument panel. From asteroids, from all sides of the moon, the survivors of the Styglis squadron were bearing down on him.

"I didn't use or order them," Mazuurek smiled to himself, "Their actions were as predictable as yours. The Octantis can shield its front, but in open space without a rear guard–"

"–our comrades gave their lives to finish you," The Styglis commander whispered, "This is for my mother, you arrogant leech."

The Octantis dodged with all its power, but one of its arms was crippled, and the light Styglis were faster. It sliced two more fighters, and a couple of laser-drones, then sank down, as autocannon fire peppered its body.

"This is for my parents!"

"My sister, you b–!"

Barouhcruz might have furiously protested that he had no idea what had been done to their relations by himself or any noble. In his last seconds of life, he realised that could have the point.

-0-

-0-

Zebrin stared at the Octantis, as flames blossomed from it and expired. His own sadness surprised him. Barouhcruz had been a shallow, unprincipled fool, even if he had fought beside him for their lives…maybe Count Orga had been right. Any man you fought beside was simply and inescapably a comrade–

Bullets thunked home in the Electris's side. Zebrin barely raised his shield in time; the Tharsis shot by, dodging the lightning blast.

The Electris Aldnoah drive was inexhaustible, but couldn't be kept up permanently without shutting down to recharge. Zebrin only raised the shield when fired on, relying on the excellent sensors and AI threat-recognition, with which a single Versian Kataphract could conquer a nation. But if anything distracted the user, then pilot error would claim another victim.

Zebrin saw Rafia's face in his mind; the confident grin that caught up her pillow lips in an instant. Even if the base had preferred futile resistance to surrender, why hadn't she recovered the Princess and shut down their defence? She couldn't be dead. Zebrin snarled, and flung up his shield again–the Tharsis hovered, saving its bullets.

"Zebrin!" Orga's voice on the radio, "Do you stand in need of aid?"

"No need, Milord. The Herschel is spent, the Styglis decimated, and no weapon of their can touch me. I will take the Moonbase myself; I will rescue Countess Rafia and the Princess!"

The Electris glided forward, shield crackling. The Tharsis, the surviving Styglis, and a few laser drones circled beyond its range, darting from the cover of asteroids to fire snapshots. If they could surprise or distract Zebrin, a shot might get through–Zebrin smiled, as an incautious Slave unit flew to pieces under his lightning. His electric shield flung the Herschel's laser barrage aside.

He wouldn't throw up a constant shield, and risk going into recharge. He would not let a single attack touch him, until he touched down on the Moonbase, and fried everything he could reach, until they begged for quarter. The hanger was within a mile, now, defence missiles were bursting uselessly on his shield, and another Styglis exploding…

Rafia. It had been the Scandia's arrow–there was the Tharsis! More shots pummelled the Electris. Zebrin swore as he raised the shield again. But the Tharsis was swooping past him. Spinning away from another explosive arrow, already aimed at the spot from where it had come.

"RAFIA! Your cloaking is useless against the Tharsis, leave him to me–!"

"I know…"

"What?" The voice didn't sound like Rafia; it was somebody in the grip of despair, "Rafia, don't–!"

The Tharsis clipped the Scandia on its first pass, scarring its cloak. The second pass smashed through the body, before Zebrin's eyes, to leave the torso drifting in space.


	4. Rafia

_Slaine told Asseylum everything. She stared out at the stars; he sprawled in his chair._

 _"Why? Why did you not end the war?"_

 _"Perhaps I should have, Highness. I should have seized control of the Knights, as the royal fiancee, and wiped them all out; every foe on Earth, every Versian traitor. Then our war would have ended, when nothing was left to harm you...but I missed my chance."_

 _"Slaine...what are you saying? You said we could thrive together! I trusted you..." Her voice died, as Slaine hung his head. "I must command the Knights to cease this pointless war."_

 _"The Knights have wanted nothing for decades but Earth on a plate, Highness. They won't heed you more than Saazbaum, and nor will the UFE. I even made Lemrina urge the war in your name–you'll only risk your life, again–!"_

 _"Even so, I must try, Slaine. As your Princess, I command you to stand with me as I try. My life is worth nothing, unless spent for the people I love–"_

 _"Asseylum!" The face Slaine raised was shockingly pale,"Forgive me. No...just don't say that..."_

 _The silent war of two frozen years blazed in Asseylum's eyes. Slaine sighed, and went on, staring up at her with eyes colder still._

 _"Highness If you...find no peace, I will defend you to my death. if you find your peace, then seal it with a scapecoat. Put the blame for the this war on me."_

 _"Slaine..."_

 _Asseylum touched his hand. Her touch could drain the hallowed Aldnoah from any noble's body–she'd known all of them feared her, since she was six. But Slaine's power was self-made, bitter and horrifying. She couldn't take away his power, or his chains._

 _Asseylum saw her Grandfather. Then she ended the war with Earth, as Empress of Vers._

-0-

-0-

 **Hours ago**

"I impersonated you, to urge on the war." Lemrina gazed at her sister boldly, "The Knight will never believe Princess Asseylum desires peace unless you admit that."

"If they knew I could be impersonated, no one would trust my words again. I would destroy the Royal Family's authority, and sacrifice you."

"I would thank you for such consideration. But I would suffer disgrace or death, rather than let you blame the war on Slaine!"

Eddelrittuo covered her mouth. Princess Asseylum looked away; she would have gazed out of a window at the , if there had been one in the secured lodgings where they had all retreated before the start of the attack. Their guards detail them kept watching the door, weapons ready.

"…Slaine protected me, while I slept. He's fighting for me now. But in two years, he did not stop the war with Earth, or even try..."

"Do you think he could've done that…? You don't understand why he did it. You should never have woken up."

A guard's radio crackled with panic. It was cut off, as shots sounded through the security door.

"WHERE IS HER HIGHNESS, YOU SCUM?" Another shot.

"Rafia…" Now Asseylum covered her mouth, "Eddelrittuo, please take my sister to the bathroom. Private Gaugin, please go with them. All of you must stay there quietly until help comes, whatever happens to me."

"Princess! Let me stay with you…" Eddelrittuo clung to Asseylum's hand and kissed it; Gaugin had to drag her away. The look on Lemrina's face was murderous. Asseylum looked away from them, and stood up, looking entirely composed.

"Highness?" Rafia's voice, "You should move back from the door!" Asseylum didn't move.

"She's going to break in?" A guard hissed, "But she's alone, she can't have a Kat–"

The explosion that interrupted him also took out two other guards, and made Asseylum fall back onto the sofa. A surviving guard fired into the cloud of smoke, but Rafia came in low and flung him over her shoulder, while breaking his colleague's sternum with a kick. The last guard was still fumbling with his weapon. Rafia contemptuously pistol-whipped him to the floor, then hammered the guard she'd thrown into unconsciousness. Then walked towards the Princess, and dropped to one knee, with her weapon over her heart.

"Your Highness. To see you again, see you well, standing once more…it gladdens my heart. No, it is the most wonderful sight I could have wished for! Those dogs didn't harm you, I trust? Or that villain Troyard?"

"I'm sorry...?"

The ringing hadn't quite left Asseylum's ears. It smelt like Rafia had blasted into the room with plastic explosives. The Countess offered the Princess her free hand. All fierce joy of the questing knight glowed in her face.

"It is not safe to remain here. We must escape in the Scandia, before you can avenge your royal honour on all the traitors and Terran dogs–"

Asseylum stood; as Rafia seized her hand, she wrenched it away, moved behind the sofa. Rafia stared like a dog kicked in the mouth.

"Dear Countess Rafia. Please inform your comrades, there is no need for them to keep fighting. Then let us work to end this pointless war together."

"Highness. You can speak freely now..." Rafia stared about, as if searching for the gun at Asseylum's head to make her say such things. Asseylum looked back demurely, "Highness, the Terran scum almost killed you! Earth's water and soil are the destined foundations of Versian glory! Your speech last August so stirred me...you're our beloved Princess, the hope and honour of Vers incarnate! I knew you would never end this war; my Princess, our commander–!"

"No. I'm sorry. I love my people and country, but this war was something I never desired...only the pain of wounds, and the will of all my nobles, ever led me to support it. So for honour and justice, millions of the helpless and innocent were slain. I know what your motives were, Rafia. As your Princess, I followed my knights' will...but now, as Empress, I must command. We will trade for Earth's resources, I have forgiven the ones who hurt me, and this is your sovereign's will."

Rafia looked as stunned as if she'd fought through an army to discover that everything she'd trusted was a lie. 'Helpless and innocent' echoed in her ears; where had honour been, then?

"Highness...why? Your nobles have bled and died in your defense; why would you deny them victory? People die in war...but don't forget the true will of your heart! The glorious new Vers of our dreams...Highness! I would give my life for your kingdom!"

"Yes. You haven't changed. I dreamed of a new Vers; a kingdom of peace and kindness, built on respect and understanding. But if that wasn't your dream too, then don't say you'd give your life for _me_."

"No...I...I thought we wanted...I wanted..." Rafia stared in horror, finally pulled her gaze away. To serve her Princess was life, she'd given her life,,,she would serve her, fight for her, even if she was hated. "Highness, we must go!"

"Must I? I will not let you go, Rafia. Come..." The Princess reached a slim hand towards Rafia, whose horror became a white hot lens.

With a touch, the bearer of Aldnoah could deactivate her; cancel her activation factor. Strip her of nobility, power; all that gave life worth to a Versian life. She would rather lose her soul.

"No! Get away!" She thrust out her gun at the Princess. Both women froze.

"Rafia. I'm sorry, I never thought it would come to this..." The gun shook, Rafia's eyes blurred–

"Take that gun away from your sovereign!"

Her head spun. Harklight stood in the doorway, weapon raised...and Asseylum had lunged, seized her gun-arm, thrown her to the floor in a torrent of silk and lace. Harklight and two guards dashed in. Scooping her gun she dropped, pushing the Princess behind them.

"Order your men to surrender," Harklight's face was cold and calm, "Or we will execute you here, as the traitor who turned her weapon against the Princess."

"I... _you_! How did you escape the command room?"

"We overcame the few men you'd left. If I may speak freely, and I may, it was sheer arrogance to assault a determined fortress with so few. The same arrogance that sought war with Earth, and sacrificed many humble Versian lives."

"You unmannerly dog–"

"Harklight." The Princess bowed to her rescuer, "For those words, and for saving my life, I promise to create you a knight at the first opportunity. As for you..."

Countess Rafia stiffened. Asseylum took her hand, held it in silence for a moment, then turned away.

She had turned her weapon against the Princess. She ordered the surrender. The guards took Rafia's arms, and led her away, unresisting. There was nothing in her to fight.

-0-

-0-

"...a pointless war perhaps, your majesty, but not causeless. Decades of anti-Terran propaganda, the commons desperate need of resources...even if Earth's stolen riches would only go to nobility. Lord Slaine understood the need for change; he hoped to be the beginning of change, in himself..."

"I know his intentions were good, or he thought they were." Asseylum shut her eyes, "That's why I'm letting him and Lemrina go free. Sir Harklight, please tell me more about–"

Harklight's radio crackled to life. On her way to a holding cell, Rafia had suddenly knocked down both her guards and taken off.

"She's heading away from us...Highness, the command room is the nearest secure location."

As Harklight and Asseylum rushed through the main hangar, where Rafia's men were being disarmed, the Countess was fleeing back towards an airlock, a spacesuit, and the Scandia. The only hope left to her was battle, and its final end.

-0-

-0-

 **Present**

"...Zebrin. I'm so sorry. I had a woman's heart after all. But don't run. Fight for what you believe in. Make a new Vers with your strength."

"Rafia, I...no!"

The Tharsis was hovered above the Scandia for a final pass, when Slaine realized Mazuurek was shouting over the radio.

"Troyard, we need to stop the Electris! Send Countess Rafia as far away from the combat zone as you can!"

The Tharsis' arms clashed shut around the Scandia. Fighting the urge to crush Asseylum's assailant, Slaine shot away. After some miles, he shoved the broken Kat away, towards an asteroid cluster.

"Troyard..." sweat glittered on Zebrin's face. He stared at the Moonbase, filling his screen, as gunfire pattered off his shield, unheeded. Then he swore loudly, and swung the Electris round at top speed.

"No! I'm finished! You can take the Moonbase and win us the day. Just let me die, for–!"

"Be quiet!" She was, "You're an Orbital Knight! Countess Rafia of Vers! You can't give up. You can't die."

-0-

-0-

"You really are a villain, Mazuurek."

"Takes one to know one, as I believe the Terrans say?"

The Tharsis and Herschel clattered down in the Moonbase hangar; mechanics were swarming over them like pit-stop crews in a second. Rafia's troops and Baroness Astarte were still being held at gunpoint. Astarte was glaring at everyone, and looked like she'd been crying.

"Ammunition, spares, and no non-essentials; do your utmost!" Slaine called to the mechanics. He was staring out at the Castles floating in space, and the small, but growing figure, spilling from the gates of castle Orga.


End file.
